


Born To Be Wild

by JungleKitty



Series: Kirk/Brandt Cycle [21]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleKitty/pseuds/JungleKitty
Summary: You've seen TNG's Rascals, right?
Series: Kirk/Brandt Cycle [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524224
Kudos: 3





	Born To Be Wild

**Author's Note:**

> (c) 1998 Jungle Kitty. Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and her original characters.
> 
> This story is one in a series about the relationship between James Kirk and Suzanne Brandt. It is #21 in the entire series, and part of the Stories of the First Five-Year Mission (2264-2269).
> 
> This story takes place about four years into the first five-year mission, starting a couple of days after the events in Memory Lane. And yeah, I totally ripped off TNG's "Rascals." About one-third of the way through writing this, I was informed that *they* stole it from the TOS animated series! Apparently, TPTB have no new ideas, either.

"Mmmmmm," Kirk moaned happily. "It's been forever. Oh, this is so good."

Glancing up from nibbling a golden stalk, Brandt shot him a dubious look.

"Well, it *is*." He dropped his voice to a low whisper. "It's practically giving me a hard-on."

"James Tiberius Kirk!" His mother whirled away from the kitchen counter, waving the tongs menacingly. "Is that how you talk at *dinner*?"

Ignoring Brandt's snort of stifled laughter, Kirk muttered, "Sorry, Mom. But I'd almost forgotten how good Iowa sweet corn is--"

"I don't care! I won't have that language at the dinner table." She clucked her tongue at her son's guest. "Really, Suzanne!"

Brandt looked up, bewildered. "What? I'm just eating my corn on the cob--"

"Do you put up with that?" Winona asked.

Forcing a serious expression, Brandt sighed sadly. "Winn, I can't tell you how many lovely meals he's ruined..." Eyes shining with mischief, she was now fighting a losing battle with the urge to laugh. "...by getting a hard-on."

"Oh, I give up!" Fighting her own urge to laugh, Winona turned back to the pot of boiling water and dropped in three more ears of corn.

"Hey!" Kirk objected. "Why is it all right for her to say `hard-on'?"

"Because she's our guest," his mother replied.

"Yeah," Brandt said smugly and stuck out her tongue.

Entering enthusiastically into the exchange he and Sam had played out so many times at that very table, Kirk howled, "Mom! Suzanne stuck her tongue out at me!"

Brandt, who had a younger brother of her own, retorted, "Can it, you little tattle-tale, or I'll stuff you in the `fresher!"

"Oh, you two!" Winn joined them at the table and sank into a chair, laughing. "Thank goodness you didn't act this way when Peter was here."

"Mom, Peter is fourteen years old. I'm sure he knows what a hard--"

"One more word, Jim, and I'll send you to your room." Winona studied the smirking pair. "*Alone.*"

***

"That must have been one heck of a leave," Dr. McCoy commented, as he accompanied Captain Kirk from the transporter room.

"What do you mean, Doctor?"

"You look five years younger."

"Home cooking, Bones. And clean living, of course."

McCoy glanced discreetly at the mark on Kirk's neck that was not quite hidden by his shirt. "Of course."

"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

Kirk flipped the switch on the nearest wall comm. "Kirk here."

"Incoming message from Starfleet Command, sir."

"On my way."

***

Five minutes later, Kirk was back in the transporter room, watching a familiar figure materialize.

"Well, well, well. Captain Brandt. How long has it been? Twenty-five minutes?"

She was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt that declared she was "Homegrown."

"Not even. I checked in, Skorheim pushed me onto a transporter pad, threw these at me--" She held up a handful of disks. "--and said, `You're off.' Care to fill me in on my destination?" she asked as they entered the corridor.

"I imagine the real answer to that question is on one of those disks. But we're stopping at Renaissance 4 to pick up additional personnel--"

"Presumably the rest of my unit."

"And then off to...wherever it is that you're going to do whatever it is you do."

"If there's one thing I like, it's a clearly-defined mission."

***

The comm whistled as Kirk ushered Brandt into his quarters.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

"Kirk here."

"Spock here, Captain. We are cleared for departure."

"Very good, Mr. Spock. Lay in a course for Renaissance 4 and take us out. You have the conn. Kirk out."

Smiling, Kirk turned to Brandt and started to put his arms around her. She smoothly sidestepped him and looked down at the growing bulge in the front of his trousers.

"Well, well, well, Captain Kirk. How long has it been? Three hours?"

"Brandt, in the past three years, I have never failed to welcome you aboard the Enterprise at the earliest opportunity. Therefore, tradition demands..."

"Reunion sex."

"Exactly."

"I hardly think a separation of less than an hour requires full-out reunion sex."

"Tradition, Brandt, tradition," he scolded as he backed her up against the nearest bulkhead. "We'll just have to pretend it's been three months. For instance, let's pretend I don't know what kind of homegrown you're smuggling under that shirt."

***

Five minutes later, they lay on the bunk, breathing hard and wondering what the hell to say.

"Jim," Suzanne said tentatively, "was that--"

"Yes," he cut her off shortly.

"Did you intend--"

"No."

"Oh."

He rolled off her, painfully aware that he had rolled onto her less than a minute earlier.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"It's all right. I'm just...surprised."

"So am I."

Another uncomfortable silence.

"So...are you just going to lay there?"

"Oh! No, of course not."

He slipped his hand between her legs, proving that, even under the direst of circumstances, he was a gentleman.

***

The next morning, Kirk awoke and stretched.

I must be getting used to this, he thought. The bunk hardly feels crowded at all anymore.

Glancing at the chron, he saw there were twenty-two minutes left before its signal. Enough time to start the day properly, albeit quickly. Hopefully not as quickly as yesterday afternoon. He pushed that thought away and reminded himself that he'd more than made up for it later on. He rolled toward Brandt and...

Leapt out of the bed as if it was on fire. There was a young girl there! A *naked* young girl! How the hell-- Whose idea of a joke--

She opened her eyes, gasped, and scrambled for the cover.

"Little boy, who let you in here?" she demanded.

Little boy? He reached out and saw that his hand was much smaller than he expected it to be.

"Suzanne?" he whispered.

She blinked at him in surprise. "Jim? What happened to you?"

He turned and ran to the head, his alarm increasing at the inordinate number of steps it took to get there. Upon arrival, he peered into the mirror and saw the pre-adolescent face of Jimmy Kirk.

***

Wrapped in bathrobes that were far too big for them, they stared at each other across the chess table, their young faces registering stunned disbelief. Kirk broke the silence.

"How old do you think you are?"

"Twelve, maybe thirteen. You?"

"I'd say about ten."

"Well, now you're definitely the youngest starship captain in the fleet."

"Brandt, this isn't the time."

"Sorry. Suggestions?"

Kirk rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I hope Spock and McCoy are prepared for a shock." He slid off the chair and went to the wall comm.

"Why should they have it easy?" Brandt muttered.

As Kirk stood on tiptoe and stretched for the switch, she realized that his spurt of adolescent growth was at least two years away.

"Bridge. Lieutenant Uhura here."

"Lieutenant, have Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock come to my quarters immediately."

After a short pause, Uhura responded, sounding puzzled and a little annoyed, "Who is this?"

Kirk cleared his throat and dropped his voice to a lower register. "This is the captain."

"Riley, is that you?"

Praying that her two years' seniority would allow her to believably imitate her adult self, Brandt ran to the comm unit and said authoritatively, "This is Captain Brandt. Send Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy to Captain Kirk's quarters on the double. Brandt out."

***

Covering his surprise at finding two children in Captain Kirk's quarters, Dr. McCoy greeted them warmly. "Hello there. I'm Dr. McCoy. And your names are--?"

The boy furrowed his brow and said, "James T. Kirk."

The girl smiled sourly. "Suzanne Brandt."

McCoy looked from the boy to the girl, then back to the boy again. Yes, he could see the resemblance to the adults who should have been standing in their places, but...

"Now wait a minute--"

"I don't know how it happened, but we woke up this way, Bones."

McCoy's eyes popped even wider at being addressed so familiarly by one so young. Before he could respond, Spock entered, surveyed the unexpected scene, and said, "I was not aware that we had taken on any passengers."

"We're not passengers," the boy said irritably. "Well, she is, but I'm..." He trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable declaring his rank to the men towering over him.

"Mr. Spock, this young man claims to be Captain Kirk." The doctor gestured cordially in the boy's direction.

"I see. And the young lady?"

"Says she's Captain Brandt."

"How do they explain their appearance?"

"Well, they--"

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Kirk interrupted.

Two heads turned sharply in his direction, as Spock and McCoy automatically responded to the familiar tone.

"Captain Brandt and I are standing right here," Kirk continued as Brandt drew herself up to her full, though not very impressive, height. "So I suggest you include us in the discussion."

"Very well," Spock replied. "How do you explain your appearance?"

"Well, I...I can't."

"There was that radiation cloud, Jim," Brandt said.

"What radiation cloud?" McCoy asked.

"We passed through it in the shuttle at the beginning of our leave," Kirk explained. "But the shields showed no penetration, and we scanned each other afterwards. Everything came up fine. And it was over a week ago."

"Well, effects from radiation usually show up in less than a week, but it's something we should check out."

"A DNA scan to establish identity would also be advisable, Doctor," Spock said.

"Yes, of course. All right, kids--er, Captains, I'll examine you both in sickbay as soon as you're dressed."

"What do you suggest we wear?" Brandt asked evenly.

***

Walking behind the two youngsters, McCoy couldn't help being amused by their attire. Spock had reprogrammed the replicator to produce the appropriate uniforms--both in size and rank--but boots were an impossibility. Footwear had been removed from the program years before, after repeated complaints about breaking in a new pair of boots every day. And ship's stores didn't stock children's sizes. So the two captains padded along barefoot, stubbornly ignoring the curious stares of passing crewmembers.

Until an ensign playfully saluted and said, "Trick or treat."

Both captains stopped and turned.

"What was that, mister?" Kirk snapped.

The ensign chuckled and said, "Trick or treat, *sir*."

Kirk inhaled slowly, gathering his control and mentally preparing a speech on insubordination.

"Move along, Ensign," Spock said quietly as he stepped between the man and his pint-sized CO.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Spock," the now-confused ensign responded as he hurried off.

After a tense moment, Kirk rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Thank you, Mr. Spock, for preventing me from making a fool of myself."

Spock nodded in acknowledgment.

As Kirk started off, Brandt scurried after him and asked incredulously, "Aren't you going to put that crewman on report?"

Kirk gave her a withering look. "Do I look like I can put anybody on report?"

"Height is not a command requirement."

"But credibility is. And right now, neither of us has any. So let's just get to sickbay, all right?"

***

After a brief conference to review the unsettling results of the medical tests, Spock and McCoy joined the captains, who were impatiently pacing around Dr. McCoy's office.

"Well, *Captains*," McCoy smiled as he tapped the medpadd. "The DNA scans indicate that you are exactly who you say you are. And the other tests reveal that you're suffering from a very unusual form of radiation sickness. What puzzles me is that it should have shown up much sooner. Did either of you experience any nausea, disorientation, behavioral changes?"

"Not that I can think of," Kirk replied.

"Jim," Brandt said quietly. "We have been acting differently, if you think about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday afternoon. In your quarters." She looked at him significantly.

"Oh, that was just--"

"And last night, remember how cranky I got? It was because I thought... I thought I was getting..."

"What?"

"A pimple."

"Oh, Suzanne!" He gave her a scornful frown.

"And when we were in Iowa. The way we acted with the corn on the cob." She stopped uncomfortably and finally mouthed the words, "And the pick-up truck."

"Care to let us in on this?" McCoy asked.

Kirk looked at Brandt, who was now blushing furiously. He gave a dejected sigh and said, "Just some...uncharacteristically juvenile behavior."

"I see. And since you didn't recognize it..."

"We were on leave," Kirk explained.

"We thought we were just having fun," Brandt added.

"I was going to say," McCoy said, "that because you didn't recognize your behavior as unusual, you weren't treated. And now we're dealing with these physical symptoms."

"Can you treat us for it?" Kirk asked.

"For the radiation sickness? Probably. It might take me a little while to find the right mix, but--"

Noting Brandt twisting her hair in agitation, Kirk said, "Get on it right away, Bones."

"Well, that's only part of the problem, Jim. You see, um... Well..."

"Well?"

"Well..." McCoy repeated awkwardly.

"What the doctor is hesitating to say, Captain," Spock interjected, "is that the effect appears to be irreversible. Except, of course, through the natural aging process."

"WHAT!" Brandt exploded.

"Suzanne, please," Kirk gently reprimanded her. "Spock, are you saying that it could be more than twenty years before we're...`ourselves' again?"

"Twenty-four-point-eight-seven, to be exact."

***

Shortly after the end of alpha shift, an exhausted Nurse Chapel poured another glass of wine, drained it in one swallow, and continued her litany of complaints.

"They weren't too bad in the morning, but by the afternoon, they were *acting* like children--children even younger than they are. Every now and then, they'd remember who they were and apologize, but it changed from hour to hour. They started out playing computer games, until they fought over who cheated."

"How do you cheat at a computer game?" Uhura asked.

"I have no idea. According to Captain Brandt, Captain Kirk has a history of doing just that." She sloppily poured herself another glass. "Then they made up nicknames for everyone who came into sickbay. Poor Yeoman Pu was almost in tears. When I separated them, they sulked until dinner. And then--I can't believe I'm even saying this--"

"What, Christine?" Uhura asked sympathetically.

"They refused to eat their vegetables and--and--the captain threw his carrots at me!"

"No!"

"Yes! And you should have seen the fuss every time I needed a blood sample. God only knows what they're doing to the beta shift."

"Well, Christine, they're probably frightened. After all, they're just children--What am I saying?"

"No, that's it. They *are* children. And they're acting more and more like it. Of course, they're little angels in front of Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock, but-- " She picked up the bottle. "Do you want this?"

"No, go ahead." Uhura watched her friend throw back the last of the wine and finally asked the question that had been troubling her since she'd first heard about the captains' dilemma. "Chris, is it true that it's irreversible?"

Chapel sighed sadly. "It doesn't look good. And remembering that is the only thing that kept me from slapping them."

She shook the bottle of wine over her glass, not caring how crass it looked. After what she'd been through, she deserved every drop.

***

Around 2300 hours, Suzanne sat up and looked across the darkened ward.

"Jim?" she whispered.

"What?"

"Are you awake?"

"No, you idiot, I'm talking in my sleep."

She hopped down off her bio-bed and tiptoed over to his.

"Jim, are you scared?"

"Kinda."

"Me too. Can I sleep with you?"

"All right," he said reluctantly as he moved over. "But don't do anything girly, like cry, okay?"

"I never cry." She slipped in under the covers. "And don't you do some stupid boy thing, like fart."

"Girls fart, too."

"Not on purpose."

***

"Oh, dear," Nurse Chapel said when she entered the ward the next morning.

The two children were sound asleep in the same bio-bed, peaceful, angelic, and about three years younger than the last time she'd seen them.

Wishing her de-tox would kick in, Chapel went to Dr. McCoy's office and whispered, "Did you see--?"

"Yes, Nurse, I saw," he said wearily. "Let them sleep. This is going to be a very hard day."

***

Dr. McCoy frowned at the two miscreants idly swinging their legs over the edge of the bio-bed.

"Now, kids," he said. They no longer objected when addressed that way, having evidently forgotten that they were anyone other than exactly who they appeared to be. "I don't know what you did yesterday, but Nurse Chapel is threatening to resign from Starfleet if she has to spend another day baby-sitting you. I don't need you here right now, so if you'll promise that you'll be on your best behavior, I'll let you out of sickbay. Do we have a deal?"

They nodded and smiled sweetly.

"You can go to Jim's quarters, the rec lounge, and the mess hall. That's it."

"Awww! I wanna go to the bridge," Jim pouted.

"Me too!" Suzanne chimed in.

"Absolutely not. And one more thing." McCoy grimaced uncomfortably. "I know you slept in the same bed last night. So I have to ask. Are you, um, well, are you...attempting to have sexual relations?"

They stared at him blankly.

"Uh..." Cringing inside, he remembered the "birds and bees" talk with Joanna. "Kissing and touching each other?"

"Ewwww!"

"Yuck!"

"All right," McCoy smiled in relief. "Good. You can go now."

He helped them off the bio-bed and shook his head at their conversation as they left.

"I'd rather kiss a mugato!"

"I'd rather eat worms!"

"Bubble-butt!"

"Snot-face!"

***

At 1140 hours, Spock strode urgently into the medical lab, where Dr. McCoy was dejectedly reading the test results from his most recent attempt at an anti-regression serum.

"Dr. McCoy. Did you release Captain Kirk and Captain Brandt from sickbay?"

"Well, yes. It seemed unfair to keep them cooped up and I--"

"Doctor, you and I have been the victims of a clever deceit."

"Those kids *aren't* Jim and Suzanne?"

"No, their identity has been established beyond a doubt. However, their behavior--"

"Calm down, Spock. Chapel told me all about it. I gave them a good talking-to."

"Evidently it was ineffective. For the past one-point-three hours, I have been receiving reports of unexplained events that I believe can best be categorized as `pranks.'"

McCoy sighed. "What did they do?"

"They have been using the replicators to manufacture the materials necessary for their activities. Mr. Sulu's quarters have been vandalized with a substance that has been identified as `Silly String.' The synthesizer in the recreation deck contains melted crayons. Lieutenant Uhura has received numerous requests to page an individual known as I.M. Adoofus."

The Vulcan stared in amazement at the doctor rocked with laughter.

"Doctor, I fear you do not understand the seriousness of the situation."

"Oh, come on, Spock. It's just a little mischief. Although I admit that it's hard to imagine Jim being malicious at any age."

Spock frowned thoughtfully. "It is possible, Doctor, that their current behavior differs substantially from what they exhibited during their actual childhoods."

"How do you figure that?"

"As adults, their self-discipline tempers their impulses. However, as they regress, that self-discipline degenerates. It is my theory that, on some level, they remember the experience of making their own decisions, and the liberty to act on their every whim is proving irresistible."

"Well, freedom from adult interference *is* a common childhood fantasy."

"Doctor, I do not wish to be an alarmist, but I must point out that those children may retain enough of their adult knowledge to endanger this ship, and their behavior indicates that they will not hesitate to indulge themselves."

"Now, Spock, they haven't done any *real* damage. But if you're that concerned, take them back to sickbay, and I'll put Nurse Chapel in charge of them again."

"If only if were that simple." Spock gestured toward the computer. "With your permission?"

"Be my guest."

"Computer. What is the current location of Captain Kirk?"

The computer responded with the sound of two childish voices trilling, "You can't find us!" The transmission ended with a loud belch.

Spock turned a baleful gaze on McCoy, who squirmed uncomfortably.

"As you can see, Doctor, they have disabled the personnel location program. Hopefully, you will discover the antidote and I will locate the children before they do `any real damage.'"

***

At the beginning of her lunch break, Uhura returned to her quarters to retrieve a book that she'd promised Chekov.

"What the hell--" she exclaimed as she surveyed her usually neat quarters.

Clothing was strewn across the floor, various liquids were spilled on the dresser, and the whole room stank to high heaven of "Evening on Risa."

"I didn't do it."

She turned and saw a small girl, no more than eight years old, standing near the mesh divider. Uhura's favorite shade of lipcolor was smeared across her mouth, her short sandy hair was bedecked with every ribbon and clip that Uhura owned, and she was wrapped in the negligee that the communications officer had been saving for a very special occasion.

"Oh, really?" Uhura replied tartly. "Then who did?"

"I dunno."

Uhura sighed. "All right. Let's get you cleaned up, and then I'll take you to lunch so we can figure out who did make this mess."

***

After reporting that she had Captain Brandt safely in hand, Uhura took her to the officers' mess, where she saw Mr. Scott and a tow-headed boy at a nearby table.

"May we join you?"

"Aye, that you can, ladies. But we're not speaking at the moment." He nodded to his young companion.

"Why not?"

"This wee laddie decided to teach himself to play the bagpipes. Without my permission."

"I said I was sorry," Jim said contritely, turning soulful hazel eyes up to the chief engineer.

"Hmph," Mr. Scott snorted, unimpressed.

Suzanne sniggered, and Jim grinned devilishly as he went back to blowing bubbles in his milk. Frowning, Uhura pulled the glass away from him.

"Hey!" he yelped.

"If you can't drink it nicely, you can't have it at all."

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not my mother!"

"Thank heaven for small favors."

"But--but--" Suddenly a light dawned. "I OUTRANK YOU!"

"That's right!" Suzanne shrieked in a voice that could cut titanium. "We outrank all of you!"

"I am the captain! I am the captain!" Jim chanted at the top of his lungs as he marched around the table.

"And you are relieved." Spock stepped into his path. "Sir."

Jim stopped and stared up at six feet of irritated Vulcan.

"Captain Kirk," Spock said. "I regret having to take this action, but you are incapable--"

"You can't! It's my ship!" Jim went red in the face and swung a fist that was easily and gently stopped by his first officer.

"Yeah, you big bully! It's his ship!" Suzanne shouted as she charged her friend's opponent.

"Hold it, missy!" Uhura scooped her into a strong embrace. "Now that's *enough*!"

"Let--me--GO!"

Uhura turned to Spock, who was calmly deflecting the fury of a six-year-old scorned.

"Do I have your permission--Ow!--to confine Captain Brandt to my quarters, sir?"

"Permission granted, Lieutenant."

As Uhura dragged her howling charge away, Spock firmly took hold of his antagonist's small wrists. "Jim, you cannot command this ship--"

"You big--awful--dumb old--"

Twisting in Spock's grasp, Jim sputtered in frustration as his youthful vocabulary failed him. Finally he abandoned speech for action. Unfortunately, the impact of bare toes against a solid shin did not have the desired effect. It merely left the kicker screaming and the kickee completely flabbergasted.

"That hurt, you big green meanie!" Jim accused as tears started to fall.

"And he calls *her* a brat," Mr. Scott muttered.

Reminding himself that this unruly hellion was his captain, Spock knelt down, carefully put his hands on the boy's shoulders, and said, "Surely you realize that your ability to command has been seriously--"

Jim pulled free and ran to the doorway, turning back at the last moment to cry defiantly, "I don't care! Keep your stupid ship! I don't want it!"

Then he ran out sobbing. Spock sighed and started after him.

"Mr. Spock!" Scotty called. "May I accompany you? I've got an idea about how we can solve this."

"Please assure me that it does not involve beaming anyone into open space."

"Well, as a matter of fact, sir--"

"Mr. Scott!"

"It's not what you think, Mr. Spock. If you'll just let me explain--"

"Very well, Mr. Scott. But we will have to discuss it while we search for the captain. Obviously, he cannot be left to his own devices."

***

"Now, young lady," Uhura said as she sat Suzanne down none too gently. "I am going back on duty. When I leave, I'm locking you in. The door will only open on a voice command from one of the senior officers. And that does not include you or Captain Kirk. When I get back at 1800 hours, I want this entire mess cleaned up. Do you understand me?"

"You can't make me do anything."

Suzanne crossed her arms and scowled in a way that reminded Uhura of the gargoyles on the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

"No, I can't. But if you don't do as I say..." She looked into that stubborn face and remembered something she always pretended she didn't know. "...I'll give you a spanking that you *won't* enjoy."

***

Two hours later, Suzanne, having decided that Uhura was probably capable of delivering on her threat, was sullenly folding the communication officer's clothes.

"Hsst! Suzanne!"

She looked up, startled.

"Jim? Where are you?"

"Up here. In the wall."

She went over to circulation vent and saw his face pressed against the screen.

"Come on!" he said.

"Where are we going?"

"Who cares? You don't want to spend all day in Uhura-boora's room, do you?"

As Suzanne dragged a chair over, Jim pushed the screen out with his hands. She clambered up into the opening, looked closely at him and laughed.

"Your face is all dirty!"

"So? You smell icky."

"It's perfume. It smells nice."

"Maybe to a skunk. And your clothes are funny."

"I know. I keep tripping on my pants."

"Me, too. Come on."

As they began crawling through the conduit, Jim shared his discoveries.

"I got some candy bars from Chapel-Bapple's room. And she has dirty pictures."

"Let's go look!"

"No, let's go to Life Sciences. That's where I hid the candy."

***

By 1700 hours, all unassigned personnel were searching the ship for two children, age undetermined. The trail of bent ventilation screens, rifled drawers, and sticky handprints had petered out in the botanical lab, where the blossoms had been removed from every flowering plant.

The search was rendered all the more frustrating by the size of the air conduits, most of which were too small for adults to enter. As long as the children remained quiet, there was little chance of locating them. And as the silence grew, so did the fear that the children might not be capable of acting if they did want to be found.

In sickbay, McCoy pounded his fist in frustration.

"Spock, I have the serum that will stop them from regressing any further. And apparently, Scotty has figured out a way to return them to adulthood. But once they reach the age of five, the regression accelerates. And with each passing minute--"

"Yes, Doctor. I am aware of the growing urgency of the situation. According to my calculations, Captain Kirk is by now no more than two years old, and Captain Brandt will soon be subject to the increased rate of regression."

"That's what I'm saying, Spock. If we don't find them soon--"

The comm unit chirped, and a female voice spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Lieutenant Uhura to Mr. Spock."

"Spock here."

"I think I've found them, sir. Deck two, sector seven. And bring a ladder. Uhura out."

"Doctor, prepare the hypos and take them to the transporter room. Mr. Scott is standing by."

***

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Spock asked as he propped the ladder against a bulkhead near the phaser array.

"Listen, Mr. Spock," Uhura whispered. "Do you hear it?"

He cocked a pointed ear and heard the faint sound of sobbing. Uhura pointed at the ceiling.

"I think they're right above us. Or at least one of them is."

"I believe you are correct."

He positioned the ladder below the area from which the sounds were emanating, climbed up, and removed the panel, hoping that whoever was up there would not run away. The sight that greeted him almost knocked him off the ladder.

A little girl of approximately five years of age sat with her bare legs tucked under, crying into her shirt sleeve, which drooped over her fingertips. A boy, barely more than a toddler, sucked his thumb as he slept with his head resting in the crook of her knees. Both children were covered in grime and exhibited kneecaps rubbed raw by metal gridwork.

"He's going to disappear, isn't he?" the girl said in a tremulous voice. "And I'm next."

Spock saw a brave lip quiver and lose the battle against her very real terror. She turned away and sobbed loudly.

"No one is going to disappear," he said. "Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott have found a solution."

"Really?" she hiccuped.

"You have my word," he reassured her. "Captain Kirk?" He nudged the slumbering boy.

"His name is Jimmy," Suzanne said, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Very well. Jimmy."

"Jimmy, wake up." Suzanne shook him gently.

"Wha? No." The sleepy child curled tightly into her.

"Jimmy, Spock's here. He says he can make us better."

"Don' wan' him."

"Jimmy, come here," Spock said firmly.

The boy's eyes opened wide, and he crawled tentatively toward the Vulcan. Spock lifted him out of the conduit and handed him down to Uhura. As he did so, the pants that had been produced for a boy at least five years older slid down his chubby legs. Uhura pulled down his thankfully large shirt and cradled him against her shoulder. In seconds, he was sound asleep once more, his thumb tucked securely in his mouth.

"Captain Brandt?"

Spock held out his hands to her, and she pulled away fearfully.

"No!"

"I merely wish to help you down--"

"I can't!"

"What is preventing you?"

"My--my pants got too big and--I lost them and--if I climb down--you'll see *everything*!" she wailed.

Spock's eyes rolled upward, his much-touted patience nearly at an end.

"I assure you," he said carefully, "I have no wish to see everything."

"Noooooo!"

She flailed frantically at his outstretched hands.

"Captain Brandt--"

"Mr. Spock," Uhura interrupted.

"Yes, Uhura?"

He looked down, barely concealing his astonishment at the sight of the communications officer swaying gently as she rocked the captain on her shoulder.

"If you'll step down, sir, I think I can handle this."

As Spock joined her, she said, "Take off your tunic."

Spock lifted a startled eyebrow but did as she requested.

"Here, take...Jimmy," she said, smiling as she pushed the boy into his arms. "And give me the tunic." She looked up to the top of the ladder and called, "Suzanne? Suzanne, look down here."

A grubby, tear-stained face peered over the edge.

"Now watch, Suzanne. I'm going to make Mr. Spock's shirt into a pair of shorts. Look. I tie the arms around my waist with the front of the shirt hanging down my back, see?"

"Uh huh."

"Then I reach down--" She squatted and pulled the hem of the tunic through her legs. "--pull it through and tuck it under the knot."

Spock watched the inelegant yet resourceful display with increasing appreciation for Uhura's ingenuity.

Suzanne snickered. "It looks like a diaper."

"Well, it's better than nothing. Do you think you can do it?"

Suzanne nodded, and Uhura removed Spock's shirt, climbed up the ladder, and handed it to her. To her dismay, Suzanne used it to wipe her face.

"Don't--Never mind. Put it on like I showed you."

"Don't watch," the girl said petulantly.

"All right."

Uhura turned away, suppressing a smile as she heard Suzanne carefully repeating, "Tie the arms... Reach down... Pull it through... Oh, boogers! Pull it through..."

"Do you need help?" Uhura called.

"No, I'm ready."

Suzanne swung her legs over the edge and eased down to the ladder with Spock's tunic modestly covering "everything." Busy guiding the girl's descent, Uhura missed the once-in-a-lifetime sight of the captain waking up and sweetly offering his spittle-covered thumb to his first officer.

"No, thank you," Spock responded graciously.

***

If the situation had been slightly less serious, Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott would have laughed out loud at the bizarre foursome that entered the transporter room.

Spock, clad from head to toe in black, struggled to maintain his dignity under the onslaught of Jimmy's exploration of a pointed ear.

"Sharp!" the boy cried and laughed with delight as it sprang back into place.

"Please desist," Spock said and shifted the child in his arms, carefully preventing the exhibition of his captain's bottom.

Lieutenant Uhura brought up the rear with Suzanne in tow, who was ambling along in an undignified crab-walk.

"Everyone's looking at me funny," the girl complained as she tugged at the blue fabric scrunched between her legs.

"Well, you *are* pretty dirty," Uhura replied diplomatically.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock said as he pulled away from the hand that was poking at his other ear, "are you ready with the serum?"

"Right here." The doctor held up a hypospray and stepped into place near the transporter platform.

"Mr. Scott, have you accessed the materialization patterns?"

"Aye, sir. I'll bring them back just as they were the last time they came through."

"Excellent. Then I believe we should--"

"Excuse me, Mr. Spock," Scott interrupted, "but have you explained it to them?"

"I do not believe they are capable of understanding the--"

"*I* can understand," Suzanne declared with childish arrogance.

Spock turned and addressed her seriously.

"Very well. You will dematerialize as a child and rematerialize as an adult, through the application of the biological pattern that was stored when you transported aboard the Enterprise two-point-one-five days ago. Dr. McCoy will then inoculate you against further age regression."

She frowned at him suspiciously, trying to determine if he was teasing her. After several moments of thoughtful fidgeting, she stepped onto the platform with casual haughtiness and said, "Okay."

Seeing Mr. Scott reach for the controls, Jimmy stretched toward the console and demanded, "I wanna!"

"Laddie, I'd sooner put matter and anti-matter in a blender."

"Energize, Mr. Scott," Spock said.

As Suzanne dematerialized, Jimmy's eyes opened wide, his lower lip jutted out, and, after a stunned micro-second, he produced a high-pitched wail that sent a convulsive shudder up the spine of every adult present.

"Quickly, Mr. Scott," Spock urged.

Captain Brandt, clad once more in jeans and a t-shirt with the word "Homegrown" emblazoned on the front, appeared on the platform and stepped down, clapping her hands to her ears against the excruciating sound.

Dr. McCoy quickly pressed the hypo to her upper arm.

"What are you--"

Jimmy let out a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

"Whoever that child is, make him stop!" Brandt pleaded.

"I intend to," Spock said as he set Jimmy down on the transporter platform. "Stand there."

With the memory of his playmate's horrifying disappearance fresh in his mind, standing there was the last thing Jimmy intended to do.

"NOOOOO!" he screamed and made a beeline for the door, only to be waylaid by Captain Brandt, who tucked him under her arm and carried the kicking, screaming child back to Mr. Spock.

"Here," she said as she unceremoniously deposited him in the Vulcan's arms. Turning away, she muttered, "Whoever he is, I'm glad he's not mine."

After two more unsuccessful attempts at keeping Jimmy on the platform, Spock regretfully acknowledged the improbability of achieving that objective and asked for recommendations. In the appalled silence that followed Mr. Scott's suggestion of a neck pinch, Uhura said, "Perhaps if someone went with him?"

"Excellent suggestion, Lieutenant," Spock replied. "Mr. Scott, can you bring us both back if I accompany him?"

"Aye, sir."

"Very well." Spock stepped onto the platform and took the hand of the sniffling child. "Energize."

Ten seconds later, he reappeared along with Captain Kirk, who frowned at his first officer and said, "Mr. Spock, why are you holding my hand?"

***

With wary expressions, the two captains listened as Spock and McCoy described the activities of the past two days. When they had finished, Kirk pursed his lips thoughtfully and said, "Gentlemen, I look forward to reading your reports--" His voice dropped to a sterner tone. "--which I expect to be more credible than the little tale you've just spun."

"Jim?" McCoy frowned in puzzlement.

"Bones, I remember my childhood. I admit I was no angel, but I was nowhere near as bad as what you've described."

"Neither was I," Brandt added.

"Captain Kirk," Spock said, "for what reason would Dr. McCoy and I misrepresent the truth?"

"For your own entertainment, of course," Kirk replied with cool aplomb. "Now if you'll excuse us."

He gestured to the doorway and followed Captain Brandt out.

McCoy crossed his arms and stared at the closing doors. "Well, what do you make of that?"

"I believe it validates my theory about their behavior," Spock said complacently.

"Are you going to put that in your report?"

"I would be remiss if I failed to do so. And it may increase the captain's receptivity to a factual summary of events."

"Try it if you want, Spock, but I'm going after historical evidence."

Spock raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"I think a call to the captain's mother might be in order." McCoy's eyes danced mischievously. "I'd like to hear her reaction to what's gone on here. Care to join me?"

"Doctor," Spock said disdainfully. "Vulcans do not tattle."

And with that, he turned on his heel and left sickbay before the doctor could reply.

"Oh, is that so?"

McCoy gleefully rubbed his hands together as he strode to the comm unit, thinking that a call to the first officer's mother might also prove informative.


End file.
